Nutella
by Lupinista
Summary: It all started with a new jar of Nutella. Once the lid was off, the seal broken, things would never be the same. Eclare all the way. Fluffy oneshot.


**A/N: first Degrassi fic, woot! This is dedicated to CatrienStardust, who helped me create this idea during a Twitter conversation awhile ago. This surely won't be as good as her Eclare fanfics, but bear with me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. Or the deliciousness known as Nutella. If I did… I would rule the world.**

**xoxo**

I tap gently on the door, ears pricked.

"It's open!" comes a delighted voice from the inside. I sighed with relief.

Clare is waiting for me, seated on the countertop in a gesture of _utmost defiance_. She's tucked her wavy hair behind one ear so that the sunlight wafting through the window reflects off the small ring pierced through the cartilage at the top of her ear. I smirk at the sight, then wince in pain at the memory.

"Your parents left early," I comment, shutting the door behind me and facing her awkwardly.

"The meeting time changed," she says shortly; her eyes flash down, and she fiddles with the small jar in her lap. I know she doesn't want to think about her parents meeting with a divorce lawyer, so I clap my hands together and gaze around her kitchen, searching for a new topic of conversation.

My eyes come back to her almost immediately, as if she were magnetic.

"What's that?" I ask, coming closer and pointing to the jar resting in her delicate hands.

"Nutella," she says softly, a smile touching her lips, as she holds it up for my inspection.

"Oh," I reply aloofly, shrugging.

"'Oh'?" she quotes, raising an eyebrow. "You don't just 'oh' Nutella."

"I've never had any," I protest, raising my arms in surrender. "It sounds very… girly. I can't say the sight of it has ever sparked my interest."

"It's like chocolate peanut butter," Clare replies, her eyes lighting up. "It's a drug in the form of a sandwich spread."

"Maybe you've had enough," I say with a chuckle, reaching toward her to remove the jar from her grasp. She tugs it back.

"No!" she snaps with a giggle. "You're going to try some. And you aren't leaving till you admit how amazing it is!"

She reaches across the countertop and snatches a spoon out of the silverware drawer. "Now open wide, Eli," she tells me, a mischievous look in her eyes. "Don't make me come after you."

"What –?" I begin to ask, but she hops off the countertop and lunges at me.

I'm barely two steps in the other direction before she grabs me from around the waist. I slip, losing my balance, and tumble to the tile floor. "Clare!" I gasp, rolling over on my back. "You're a monster!" But I smile, so she knows I survived her attack.

"Rawr," she giggles in reply, and next thing I know she's straddling me, wielding jar of Nutella and a spoon.

I set her with a look, but before I can open my mouth, she says, "We could have done this the easy way or the hard way. And you didn't choose the easy way." Then she sets me with a pouting look that makes her eyes shine a brighter blue than before.

Who wouldn't give in?

She plants a quick peck on the tip of my nose and unscrews the lid. I watch her, fascinated as she breaks through the paper seal with the back end of the spoon and peels it aside. She looks up and notices me watching, and her cheeks turn flamingo pink.

"What?" she mumbles, embarrassed. Her eyes fall to the bottom of the Nutella jar.

"You're just cute."

Of course, I say this because it's true. But also because of the self-conscious-yet-flattered way she smiles afterward.

"Now, feed me some Nutella," I say, defeated. I wink at her, and she grins. She plunges the spoon into the jar, and produces a messy spoonful, which she presents to me with a devious grin.

I allow her to feed me, taking a careful mouthful and trying to avoid smearing the spread all over my face. But I can't contain the grin. Damn, that stuff is good.

I don't even have to speak. "I told you so," Clare says with a laugh.

I prop myself up on my elbows. "Your turn?"

"Please!"

Clare scoots off my lap, and we sit on the kitchen floor, facing each other. I take the spoon from her, getting the sticky Nutella on my fingers. I give her an equally messy spoonful, and laugh as she takes a bite. It smears on her lips, and her face turns red as she licks it off. I sigh and try not to stare at her tongue flicking over her lips.

"You have some on your nose," I fib, smirking.

"I do?" she asks, her eyes going wide. "Where?"

I reach for her face. "Right… there," I declare, rubbing my sticky fingers across the bridge of her nose.

"Eli!" she squeals, jumping back. She runs a finger over her nose to wipe it away, buy ends up smearing Nutella onto her cheek as well.

"Let me get that for you –" I offer, but she playfully slaps my hand away.

"No. I'd rather not have a Nutella mask."

"Who said I'd use my fingers?" I reply suggestively, grinning as a blush creeps onto her cheeks once again. She opens her mouth, but shuts it quickly, not sure what to say.

"Think I'm joking?" I question. When she doesn't reply, I lean forward and put my lips to her cheek, my tongue flicking across the soft skin and removing the small patch of spread. When I pull back, Clare looks dazed. The gears in my brain shift into motion.

I run a finger along Clare's jaw line. "Whoops," I murmur, and lower my face once again. I kiss the sharp plane of her jaw, tasting Clare and Nutella mixed in the most tantalizing way, and peck her on the cheek for good measure.

Clare's lips find mine, urgent, and I smile into the kiss. I feel Nutella coating my neck as her fingers slide over my skin. I'm careful to not rub my own sticky fingers on her as our lips melt into each other. I'm not sure how long we spend, facing each other on her kitchen floor, our lips carrying on their own conversation.

She's the one to break the kiss, backing off for a quick breather. I grin playfully at her. She rests one hand on my leg, a pleasant pressure, and twirls the spoon in her free fingers. I study the jar of Nutella for a moment, and hatch another fun idea, just to get Clare's blood pumping, I dip one finger into the jar, then slowly reach for Clare.

She looks up in surprise when I coat her lower lip with the Nutella. But I feel a smile forming on her face as our lips meat, and it's a heavenly kiss, Clare and an added sugar flavor. I teasingly touch my tongue to her lip, but just as I make the movement, the front door knob squeaks; the sound rings like a gunshot in the silence.

I've disappeared in the blink of an eye; Clare has mere seconds to stand and snatch a towel to clean the traces of Nutella off her face before her parents enter the kitchen. Neither of them speaks; her father drops his keys and heads upstairs, and her mother crosses the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I watch from the window outside as Clare stands, leaning against the countertop, clutching a jar full of questions, her blue eyes shining, far away in thought.

As I creep back to Morty, I can only hope she's thinking about me.


End file.
